Why I Love Lily Evans
by I Call Him Fred
Summary: One afternoon in the Common Room, James decides to make a list of all the reasons why he loves Lily Evans. Oneshot.


**Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.**

Seventeen-year-old James Potter, in the attempt to look studious, bent over his blank Transfiguration essay. Under normal circumstances, of course, he would be finished the dratted paper and be outside, lounging in the soft autumn sunshine, and plotting some elaborate prank. But the present circumstances seemed to be his undoing.

He was sitting in the common room, in an overstuffed armchair at a table by the window, parchment and books laid out in front of him. A soft breeze drifted in, smelling of crisp autumn leaves and lifting his fringe softly. These factors didn't present the problem; rather, they were what he was supposed to be doing. The composition was due one week from now, and, as Head Boy, he was expected to have assignments finished at least five days in advance. Typically, James would be scrambling to start the atrocious assignment of _three whole rolls of parchment_ about the very serious matter of the particulars of Human Switching Charms, the after-effects, and the consequences of abusing this spell.

Understandably, James was quite delighted to be engrossed in something other than his schoolwork.

Lily Evans was sitting at the next table over, coiling a strand of her fiery crimson hair around her slender left index finger, utterly absorbed in the heavy tome splayed before her. Her quill quivered slightly, looking as if it was raring to start scrawling away at the parchment beside her. Lily reached up to tuck a raspberry curl behind her delicate, shell-shaped ear, sending shivers shooting down his spine. She was sitting on her foot, leg bent under her, and her trousers seemed to hug her legs.

Even with her fingers stained blue from ink splatters and feet quite bare, James had never seen a more beautiful girl in his life.

James shook his head, in an effort to clear his head of the Lily-induced haze and concentrate on the matter of that tricky essay. He twirled his quill between his fingers, glancing at Lily out of the corner of his eye. She was now bent in half over a piece of parchment, scribbling madly away.

Merlin, James loved that girl. Sirius called his fixation "The Flower Issue". Most people were under the impression that James's mother forced him to keep a flower garden, and, after an incident that included too much Fast-Gro fertilizer, these flowers had become venomous and very ferocious. James proudly sported a half-moon scar in the web of skin between his right thumb and index finger as a marigold bite. There was no such thing as the brutal flower patch; rather, the scar was from teasing a cousin's rather unruly kneazle one time too many.

James propped his chin on his hand. Since this essay was obviously not writing itself, he decided to write something infinitely more interesting. He picked up his quill, and, with a flourish, wrote at the top of his blank parchment, "Why I Love Lily Evans". Underlining it twice with decisive, quick strokes, he smiled and pulled the parchment closer. He was already on the seventy-sixth reason in his mind, and his quill hadn't even scribbled the number one yet.

_Number one_, he thought, quill scratching furiously, _how she hums softly to herself. _ _Number two, how she can focus on anything, even some mind-blowingly dull book about the Goblin Rebellion on 1882. Number three, how she is the only person who I can call my rival in Transfiguration. Number four, her confidence. Number five, her gorgeous, loose, red curls. Number six, her temper. Number seven, how she is the only girl at this school who can repeatedly refuse to date me. Number eight, her emerald eyes that turn my knees into quivering jelly. Number nine, the way she trails her fingers over the portrait frames when walking to her next class. Number ten, the small spattering of freckles on her perfect little nose that flips up slightly. Number eleven…_

And the list went on and on. James was so engrossed in detailing number eighty-seven (_how her lips always seem to be curled in a small half-smile_) that he barely noticed Lily replacing her work in her schoolbag and stretching, arms above her head, arching her back like a cat. His lips quirked as he added, _Number eighty-eight, how she stretches. _ His eyes slid sideways to her again, and he started in surprise as they met a pair of inquisitive green orbs.

"James?" She stood up, arching her back again. James swallowed, fingers fumbling to roll up his list, which covered the front and back of a roll of parchment, and stuff it in his bag. "What are you doing?"

"My transfiguration essay." He said, and coughed as she settled back into her armchair. Breathing a sigh of relief, he relaxed slightly. "The one about Human Switching charms."

"Ah," Lily said, eyes sparkling. "Did you mention the Decree of 1746?"

James's mouth grew dry. "Er-" To be honest, he couldn't say what the Decree of 1746 _was_, exactly. That class, he had become rather fascinated in how her glorious red hair could catch the sun spilling in through one of the tall windows, creating a golden halo around her entire head.

"Erm-no, actually, I didn't. I'll have to add that." Rather pleased with himself for not blurting out how he had a fixation with her loveliness, or something equally stupid, he smiled softly. Frowning, Lily said, lips pursed, "Are you even _writing_ that essay?"

"Yes!" He exclaimed, all too quickly, for her right brow cocked skeptically. "I mean, of course I am. It needs to be written by Monday." Standing up, she sighed. "Potter, when will you stop lying to me?"

"I'm not lying!" he cried, dazedly acknowledging her return to last name terms.

"You weren't writing your essay, were you?" James winced at her accusatory tone.

"Lily, I-"

"Don't 'Lily' _me_! Why do you always lie to me? Why do you always try to make my life miserable?" She howled, face flushing red in fury.

"What are you talking about, Lily?" He cried, desperately trying to think of something intelligent to say.

"I thought you changed! You seemed so different; I thought you'd deflated your head." James's mouth dropped open in dismay as she lowered her livid voice to a disgusted hiss, "I even started to _like_ you." Her emerald eyes gleamed, seeming overly-shiny. Horrified, James realized that there were tears balancing precariously on her eyelids.

Sickened, James opened his mouth and closed it again. "Lily, I was—I—" 

"Save it," Lily said, in a voice that trembled ever-so-slightly, stuffing her quill and book into her bag. Hoisting it onto her shoulder, she pushed past him and marched towards the girls' staircase.

James was aghast. Here was everything he had ever wanted; Lily Evans was telling him that he might have a chance to date the girl of his dreams, the love of his life… and she was walking away. No matter how many times James had fantasized about this moment, it never involved Lily crying and stalking away from him. Taking a deep breath, James opened his mouth.

"Lily." She paused, slender hand resting lightly on the banister. "You're right…" He could see her back stiffen, ramrod straight, and she started to turn to face him. He went on, "I wasn't writing my essay." Practically able to feel the heat that radiated off her, he said, "I was too distracted."

She snorted, arms crossing across her chest. "By what? Quidditch tryouts next week? Rounds tonight? Some stupid prank involving Severus Snape?" The disdainful glance she sent him made him flinch, and opened his mouth, attempting to force out the words. "Er—"

"Forget it." She turned and started to walk up the stairs, head high.

He couldn't believe it. He never had quite understood what the phase "My life has gone down the loo" meant before, now, his life was going down the loo a million times and back again. His life was the most going-down-the-loo life he'd ever heard of. Frantically, James pulled his list out of his bag. "Lily! Lily, wait." Eyes flashing, she spun on her heel.

"_What_?" she hissed, irritation obvious in her voice. Rushing over, he stuffed the list in her hand, before he could change his mind.

"That's what I was doing." Backing away, his eyes widened. What had he done? Lily would hex him into next week, where his life would be even _further_ down the loo. Wonderful. All he needed was more ghastly loo business.

With an air of supreme disdain, Lily unrolled the list and read, "Why I Love Lily Evans," aloud, voice changing from impatience to bafflement. A pale eyebrow arched; she looked over at him in bewilderment. James noticed, from what seemed like a great distance; he was visualizing himself being thrown out the open window with his list tied around his throat. Face flushing, he sank, weak-kneed, into an armchair and buried his face in his hands. _Stupid, _stupid_ idiot! _He berated himself, _worthless git, bugger, bloody moron…_

Seriously contemplating jumping in the lake with his trunk tied about his ankles, he peered anxiously through his fingers and gaped in astonishment. Lily had sat down heavily on the stairs, staring at him in wonder. Groaning, he heaved his bag onto his shoulder and started to make an immediate exit of the common room, via portrait hole, when Lily stopped him.

"James."

Turning, sure the following tirade would severely injure his dignity, ruin his chance of living a happy life, and disconnect most of his major appendages, James took a deep breath and met Lily's gaze. Puzzled, he observed that her emerald eyes held no murderous intent.

"James, I—"

James was shaking. He was sure Lily would find his list either ridiculous or awful, and laugh so hard he was laughed out of existence…Therefore satisfying her urge to cackle madly and her need to murder him. Funny how the only girl who he had ever really loved was the only girl who could make him feel lower than the most diminutive amoeba.

"If you're going to kill me, could you do it fast? I have an urgent meeting with Satan that I don't want to miss."

Lily laughed, a melodic, tinkling sound that James adored (_Number eighty-nine_, his dazed brain informed him, _the way she laughs_), and James's jaw dropped open. She was _laughing_, instead of eating him alive? Was it that time of the month, or something?

"Er, Lily? Are you all right? Did you drink anything odd in Potions? I'll take you to see Madam Pomfrey, I don't think you're acting like yourself…"

Lily smiled softly at his concerned voice, and shook her head gently, making her shining locks bounce. Gracefully, she descended the stairs, bare feet seeming to skip over the stone. They sunk into the plush carpet, and padded quietly over to him.

"James?" She inquired, a slight smile quirking her lips, as she stopped only a foot away. "Why in the name of Merlin are you staring at my feet?"

_It's easier than looking you in the eye_, James's brain said, _and they're damn sexy. _He clamped his mouth shut, determined not to let that last thought cross his lips. He coughed. "They're very…er, narrow."

Giggling again, Lily said, "Yes, it makes it very difficult to find shoes."

Smiling weakly, James felt his eyes venture upwards to meet hers. Eyes probing his, she held up his list.

"Do you really mean…all of this?" She asked, biting her lip, and James noticed her toes curled even tighter into the rug. Her eyes now seemed almost guarded, as if she was waiting anxiously for his response, and she knew exactly what she wanted his answer to be. He opened his mouth and replied, earnestly,

"Every bit of it." After a slight hesitation, he added, "And I forgot to put in how much I love the way you laugh."

Lily's eyes softened and her face glowed a rosy shade of pink. "Really?" She murmured, drawing the list up to her chest as if she couldn't hold it close enough to her. Her eyes sparkled, more than usual and James realized, with a shock, that for the second time in as many minutes, Lily's eyes were filled with tears. Reaching out tentatively, he whispered,

"Don't wreck that list; I want to add more on." Catching her chin between his thumb and index finger, he pulled her closer to him. Lily's eyes closed, and a sigh of happiness escaped her lips. The list slipped out from between her fingers and her hand tangled itself in his hair. James's fingers found the place where her jaw ended, right under her ear, and tilted Lily's face up to his. He leant forward, and their lips met, creating small fireworks exploding in James's mind. Something inside him jumped for joy, and danced in ecstasy.

The kiss was an innocent one, hesitant and shy, like all first kisses, but to James, like his favorite, most gorgeous, breathtaking girl in the world; it was the most magnificent thing he had ever experienced.

_Number ninety, _James thought giddily, _how she kisses. _

**a/n: Aw. I love Lily and James. They're so cute. **

**Review, please, and tell me what you think. **

**xoxo **


End file.
